Z Do You Hear What I Hear? Complete
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: Christmas is on its way, but this year, Derek and Penelope are both dreading it. But there are others around them who are hoping they'll find their way back together...making their holidays merry and bright.
1. Chapter 1

_So the plan is for this to be a threeshot, and then after the holidays, it's back to finishing my other stories. I just can't resist the Christmas spirit for right now! Hence the Morgan/Garcia holiday drama. Enjoy!_

_This is more like a prologue to set us up for what's to come._

Derek Morgan put his fork down and studied his three year old sons face. "Something wrong, Buddy?" he asked. Marcus hadn't had a bite to eat since they'd sat down at the table for supper. And his little legs, usually swinging for all they were worth, were still as stone.

Marcus shook his head but wouldn't look his father in the eyes.

"What's wrong?" Derek repeated softly.

Marcus sniffed and put his hands on the table, then rested his chin on them. "Why is mommy sad?" he asked, looking up with big, brown eyes identical to his fathers.

"What makes you think mommy is sad?" Derek asked carefully. He picked his fork back up and began picking at his supper. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore, either.

"We heard her crying last night," Braden answered when his younger brother didn't.

Derek cleared his throat. "I'm not sure _why_ mommy is sad."

"I think she misses you," Marcus said.

Derek didn't say anything.

"_I_ miss you," Marcus said.

"I'm right here, buddy," Derek said, choosing his words carefully.

Marcus frowned. "But you're not home with us," he said with a pout.

"Come here," Derek said, pushing his chair back from the table to make room for his son.

Marcus got up from his chair and walked over to his fathers waiting arms. Derek picked him up and put him in his lap. "No," he said softly. "I'm not home with you like I used to be. But…we're gonna make a home together here."

"But I like my _other_ home, Daddy. It's where mommy is. And my toys. And Jack Frost," he said, referring to the dog the boys had received last year for Christmas as a puppy.

"Lucas Dalton, a boy in my class—_he_ said that when _his_ daddy moved out, he didn't see him anymore."

"Hey. That's not gonna happen to us," Derek said firmly. "We're together _now_, aren't we?"

Braden nodded. "Lucas Dalton said that he saw his daddy a lot at first." He shrugged indifferently. "But then his daddy just stopped coming to pick him up."

"_You're_ not Lucas Dalton and _I'm_ not his dad," Derek reminded Braden. Logic was his older son's constant companion, and it wasn't always easy to reason with him.

Marcus' eyes welled up with tears and his lower lip began to quiver. "Are you gonna stop coming to pick us up, daddy?" he asked.

"No," Derek said determinedly. He hugged his son to him. "I promise you, I will _never_ stop coming to pick you up."

"And you'll talk to mommy? To find out why she's crying?" he asked. Apparently he was going for broke.

"Yeah, buddy, I'll talk to her," he agreed.

"And she'll stop crying?"

"I hope so," Derek said sincerely.

If Derek Morgan had had a hero complex before, it had increased tenfold when he became a father.

___

"What's going on?" Derek asked as he walked into Penelope's office the next morning. He'd dropped Braden off at school and Marcus off at daycare and then made his way in to work.

"I'm…firing up my computer so I can start my day," she told him, not bothering to turn around. "What's up with you?"

"My kid thinks his mother is sad," he said.

She spun around in her chair. "What?" she asked.

"Marcus and Braden said they heard you crying the other night."

"Oh, and what? I'm not allowed to cry?" she asked angrily. "And…why is it any of your business anyway?"

"I'm just checkin' on things," he said.

"Well, check on things at your _own_ place, Derek. And leave mine alone." She got up out of her chair and stalked out of her office.

Derek sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

And reasoning with Penelope could be _just_ as impossible.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: FYI--__This is a pretty "angsty" story and will be until the last chapter. But as usual, there will be a happy ending._

"I hate bath time," Marcus said with a sigh as Penelope wrapped a towel around him and lifted him from the draining tub. She placed a soft kiss on his forehead as she carried him into his bedroom.

"I know you do, baby. But I don't like stinky little boys," she said in a teasing tone.

He giggled as she put him down beside his bed. "Can you wipe yourself off?" she asked as she rummaged through his second drawer for a set of pajamas. She found a matching pair and then turned around. "Want me to get your back?" she asked.

Marcus nodded and turned around so his mother could wipe his back, then she helped him into his pajamas. "Am I staying with Daddy tomorrow?" Marcus asked, putting his little hands on her shoulders for balance as he stepped into his pj bottoms.

"Just until I get out of work," she said, leaning in and rubbing her nose against his.

"And we get to go see Santa?" he said, his eyes lighting up.

"You get to go see Santa," she affirmed, still kneeling in front of him.

"Are _you_ gonna be there?" he asked.

Penelope shook her head. "I have to work tomorrow night," she told him. "You and Braden and Daddy are going to go see him."

"But I don't want to go without you," he said, his big brown eyes sad, as they so often had been for the last few months.

"I know, baby, and I hate to miss it, but you'll have fun. Have you thought about what you're gonna tell Santa you want?" she asked, trying to sound excited. She hated to miss the boys seeing Santa, but she had group tomorrow night with families who'd lost loved ones, and it wasn't something she could cancel, especially this time of year when things were worse for them.

He looked down and shook his head no.

She took the towel and dried his hair with it, then gave him a pat on the bottom. "Time for bed, buddy," she said.

She watched as her son climbed into bed and then she tucked the blankets around him up to his chin. "What do you think daddy wants for Christmas?" Marcus asked.

Penelope held back a sigh. Ever since he'd left, it had been all about Derek. And she knew the boys needed to talk about him, but it didn't make it any easier. "I'm not sure _what_ daddy wants for Christmas," she said patiently.

"I think he wants to come home," Marcus said smugly.

Penelope cleared her throat. "I don't think that's gonna happen, Buddy," she told him.

"But—"

"No buts, Buddy. We've talked about this." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Mommy. I love you," he said.

She smiled softly at him. "I love you, too."

___

"Hey," Penelope said, peeking her head into Braden's room. "Lights out in ten."

He nodded with a confused look on his face.

"What's going on?" she asked as she moved into his room.

"Do you think Daddy misses not being here?" he asked.

She sat down on the bed beside him and nodded thoughtfully. "Probably," she conceded.

"Then why doesn't he come home?" Braden pressed.

Penelope sighed. "I don't…think this is a conversation that we should have with just the two of us, Brae."

"Why not?" Braden asked.

"Because I'm not comfortable speaking for your father," she told him honestly.

Braden met her eyes. "Did you make him leave?" he asked. She saw the tension leave her sons shoulders, as if he'd been waiting a long time to ask the question.

Penelope cleared her throat. "No. I didn't make him leave," she said after a minute.

"So he _wanted_ to leave?"

Penelope took a deep breath. "I'm not sure what's going on, Brae. And that's all I can tell you."

He nodded and then his eyes returned to the book he was reading, indicating that his mother was dismissed. She kissed the top of his head, then stood up and headed for the door. "I love you, Brae," she said as she snapped his light out. The lamp beside his bed was still on.

Braden nodded. "Love you, too, Mom."

Penelope tripped over a stuffed bear walking down the hallway and nearly broke her neck. She picked it up and tossed it into Marcus' room on the way to her own, and then went into the bathroom and began to fill the bathtub for some much needed relaxation.

She hadn't been lying to Braden—she wasn't sure what was going on with Derek. She wished she did so she'd have a better explanation for her sons. It was like one day he was fine, and then the next he wasn't talking to her. He'd completely shut down. With the boys, too, but he'd eventually gotten over that and things had returned to normal with them. But not for him and Penelope. He'd barely look at her, and when he _would _make eye contact with her, it was as if it was accidental, and then he'd look away.

Her first thought had been that he'd cheated on her, but that lasted for all of ten seconds. First of all—that just wasn't Derek, and second of all—he spent every spare second with his family. There was no room for opportunity. And aside from both of those things, until Derek had left, their sex life had remained consistent.

She sighed as she chose between two bubble bath scents sitting on the side of the tub and then dumped one of them in. The black raspberry vanilla scent filled her senses. It was her husband's favorite.

___

Derek zipped up Braden's coat—the little boy could do it himself, but there were some things that Derek just wasn't ready to let go of yet—and smiled at him. "Did you tell Santa what you wanted?" he asked.

Braden rolled his eyes. "Yes. But don't you think it would be more productive if I told you and mom what I want?" he asked.

Derek studied his six year old sons face for a minute. "You can't visit Uncle Reid anymore," he said with a grin.

Braden gave him a lopsided grin that was almost identical to his own. "Right," he said knowingly.

Derek stood up and ruffled Braden's hair, his eyes falling on his other son who was sitting on Santa's lap.

"I don't need any more toys," he was explaining. "I just want my daddy to come home for Christmas."

Derek's eyes widened as Santa just nodded, not saying anything. "How about a toy train?" Santa asked. Derek could hear the hint of desperation in his voice.

But Marcus shook his head. "Just my daddy. I want him to sleep in the same house as me again."

Derek moved quickly and pulled Marcus from Santa's lap. "Good job, buddy," he said softly, as he held Marcus' coat out for him.

Marcus nodded. "Santa _always_ brings you what you want, right, Daddy?" he asked as he put his arms in the sleeves.

Derek cleared his throat. He'd walked _right_ into that one. Marcus had asked the same question on the way to the mall, and Derek had assured him that yes, Santa _always_ brings you what you want. He sure as hell couldn't change that answer now.

___

"I thought you were bringing us home," Braden said as Derek took a left when they reached the highway. He had to force himself not to point out that his place was their home, too.

"I am," he said. "I just have to stop by the apartment to pick some things up." OK, so even _he_ couldn't call it home.

___

Penelope knew something was up the second the boys walked into the house. Marcus was grinning from ear to ear, and Braden had a tense look on his face. "What's going on?" she asked.

Braden's eyes widened as he shook his head to indicate that he wouldn't be answering the question.

Penelope's eyes flew to Derek's as he walked into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. The first thing she noticed was the duffle over his shoulder. "What's the bag for?" she asked sharply.

"Boys, can you go hang your coats up?" Derek prompted.

Both boys flew from the room, Braden first with Marcus hot on his heels.

"Why do you have your go bag?" Penelope asked, her eyes narrowing.

He pointed his index finger at the kitchen floor. "Because I'm going…_here_," he told her firmly.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

He sighed. "I'm spending Christmas with you and the boys," he said.

She turned back to the counter and used the dishcloth in her hand to wipe it down. "Funny. I don't remember inviting you," she muttered. She sighed as she threw the cloth down onto the counter and turned back around. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter. "You _left_, Derek. Remember that?"

He nodded. "Yes," he said softly. "I remember that." There was a pause. "My mother is flying in tomorrow and she's gonna be staying _here_ with you and the boys."

"Yes. Because I invited _her_," Penelope said pointedly. She shook her head. "You're not staying here, Derek. You're not coming and going as you please. It's gonna be too confusing for the boys."

"Baby—"

"_Penelope_," she said firmly. "My _name_…is Penelope."

He sighed as he dropped his go bag by the door. "Penelope, I just watched Marcus sit on Santa's lap and tell him that he didn't want any toys."

"He wants a stuffed penguin like in Madagascar," she told him, as if that solved everything.

"Well that's not what he told Santa."

"Well…what did he tell Santa?" she asked curiously.

"He told Santa that he wanted me to be home for Christmas," Derek said. "Sleeping in the same house. And that was _after_ I told him that Santa always brings you what you want." He shook his head. "I don't want Marcus finding out that Santa isn't real like _this_," he said softly.

Penelope stood there for a minute studying his face, and then sighed heavily. "You're sleeping on the couch," she said as she spun on her heel and walked out of the kitchen.

___

Penelope pulled a piece of tape off the roll and put it on the spot where the wrapping paper overlapped. She looked up at the knock on the door. "Come in," she called. The boys had gone to bed a few hours ago, and she'd just checked on them; they were fast asleep.

The door to the bedroom opened and Derek walked in. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she said without looking up.

"Want some help?" he asked as he closed the door behind him.

"Sure."

Derek walked over, pulled a piece of tape off the roll and handed it to his wife. She took it from him and put it on the package.

She concentrated on making the wrapping perfect, using it as a reason to not look at him. This was the first time Derek had been in their bedroom in more than two months. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes, and turned around, making her way into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and turned the water on, then leaned against the closed door and forced herself to take deep breaths. She hated that when she got angry, she cried. She wished she was a yeller instead.

And she _was_ angry at Derek. He still hadn't told her what had happened for him to pull away from her. And she was tired of asking. He'd left—forever changing their lives and those of their children. Even if he _did_ decide to tell her, she wasn't sure at this point that she'd be able to forgive him. Things were never going to be the same again.

After regaining her composure, she walked back into the bedroom and Derek had started wrapping the model airplane she'd bought for Braden. "You OK?" he asked softly.

She cleared her throat. "Just tired," she said. "I think I'm gonna hit the hay."

He nodded. "Sure. Just let me finish this up."

She went to her dresser to get a nighty, and then went back into the bathroom to put it on. When she came out, Derek was gone and after turning the light out, she crawled into the king sized bed. Alone.

___

"Mommy?"

Penelope lifted her head up off the pillow and opened her eyes, squinting to see the clock. It was 3 a.m. She sat up. "You OK?" she asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"Can I sleep with you?" Marcus asked hugging the teddy bear Derek had gotten him just after he'd left against his chest.

Penelope yawned as she nodded. She usually didn't let the boys crawl into bed with her; it was a bad habit to get into. It was something she and Derek had never done as they'd designated the boys sleeping time as their alone time. But it couldn't hurt to let Marcus sleep with her just this once.

"Sure, Buddy," she said.

"She said it's OK, Braden!" Marcus yelled over his shoulder. He turned back around and ran at top speed for his mother's bed. When he reached it, he jumped up and crawled under the covers next to her.

Braden walked in and casually headed for the bed as if it was no big deal, but she knew better. She grinned as he climbed onto the bed on her other side and hugged him to her."Hard time sleeping, Buddy?" she asked as she released him.

He nodded. "Why isn't daddy sleeping with you?" he asked, looking around the room.

"He's sleeping on the couch," Penelope told him, not sure how to explain it.

She looked over at Marcus, and his eyes were already closed, his thumb in his mouth and teddy bear securely against his chest, then back at Braden. It was so hard with him, as he tried to make sense of everything. And Penelope couldn't imagine how hard this must be for him as she couldn't even make sense of it herself.

"Come here, Brae," she said, lying down. She pulled her son against her and wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on the top of his head. He wasn't like Marcus; he never asked to be held and never willingly cuddled with her or jumped into her lap anymore. It was something she had to initiate if she wanted to show her son affection.

"Are you still mad at Daddy?" he asked.

_Sweet Lord_, Penelope thought. _When was this going to stop_? There were only so many ways she could explain things. She took a deep breath as she reminded herself that the questions always increased right after they saw their dad. "I'm not mad at Daddy, Braden," she told him. "I'm confused—just like you are."

"Why are you confused?" he asked, ever curious.

_Your father isn't big on words_ flew into her mind, but she would never say that _to_ Braden _or_ in front of him. She shook her head. "I don't know, Brae. I just am."

"Will we ever be _un_confused?" he asked.

Penelope laughed softly. "I hope so," she said sincerely. But she had her doubts. At this point, she may never know why Derek had left.

___

Derek had been tossing and turning for hours—ever since he'd lain down. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. The thought of Penelope upstairs alone in bed was driving him nuts. And not because he wanted to be there with her, although he wasn't opposed to that. The thought that it was just her and the boys in the house now was wreaking havoc with him. He didn't like it at all. He'd never thought about it much when he'd been on the road; he'd had work to occupy his time. But the thought of his family alone—being a family _without_ him—it was more than he could take.

He felt a probing on his hand and sat up. "Hey, Jack Frost," he said.

The golden retriever looked up at him with his big hazel eyes and whimpered. "Gotta go to the bathroom?" Derek asked, standing up and patting the dog on the head. Jack Frost danced in a circle on his way to the front door, and Derek opened it for him, letting him out. He headed for the stairs to check on the boys—old habits died hard.

Braden's room was at the top of the stairs and Derek was surprised to find it empty. He moved to Marcus' room and found _it_ vacant, too. He walked across the hall to the doorway of his former bedroom with his wife, and found the three of them fast asleep in the big king-sized bed. _This_ was new. He wondered what else had changed in the last few months.

He smiled tenderly at the sight. Penelope was in the middle, her left arm slung out beside her with Braden's head resting on it. He suspected it would be damp with his older sons drool by morning. On her other side, Marcus was lying perpendicular to her, his shoulder driving into her hip bone. Derek moved quietly into the room and moved Marcus so his head was on the pillow and proceeded to cover them all up. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his younger sons head, and then reached over Penelope to brush Braden's bangs out of his face. He'd have to take the boy to get a haircut tomorrow.

He straightened, surprised by the desperate urge to be part of his own family. Derek had never felt so isolated in his entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I know this will come as a complete surprise to you, but as it turns out, this won't be a three-parter. It's going to be a least one more chapter, possibly two. Enjoy!_

Penelope looked at the clock on her nightstand and shot up out of bed. She had no idea how many times she'd hit the snooze button, but if she didn't get up _now_, she was going to be late for work. The boys had been up since her alarm went off the first time, and she could hear Derek down the hall coaching Marcus through brushing his teeth. The little boy had a habit of brushing his front ones and then putting his tooth brush away.

Luckily, she'd hung the clothes she was going to wear that morning in the bathroom the night before. But even having done that, she wasn't going to have time to make coffee. She groaned at the thought and stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on even as she yawned. After having readied for work, Penelope made her way down to the kitchen, grabbed her coat off the hook by the door and began to button it.

She turned to Derek. "Don't forget, Braden has half—"

"A day of school today," he finished for her. "Yep."

She nodded. "OK, then. I will see you later," she said. She walked over to the table and gave each of her boys a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good day, guys."

"You, too, Mom," Braden said. Marcus' mouth was full of Lucky Charms.

After straightening, she automatically started for Derek. She froze after a few steps, her eyes widening as she realized what she was doing. Kissing him good bye had always been part of their routine—she had to be at the office before he did, and he would usually drop the boys off at school and daycare—and she'd almost fallen right back into it.

He cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on her. She turned around and grabbed her bag off the hook. "Bye," she said quickly.

"Hey," Derek said.

She turned around and he was standing right there. Her breasts almost brushed up against him.

"Forgetting something?" he asked.

"No," she said nervously.

He held his left hand up. "Two creams, one sugar," he said, handing her a travel mug.

Just the way she liked it. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "Thanks."

And with that, she made her way to her vehicle.

___

"Are you picking me up from school today?" Braden asked.

Derek nodded. "I sure am."

"You don't have to work today?" he continued.

"No. Nana's flying in today, so I took the day off. I'm not going back to work until after Christmas," he told them.

"So we'll go and pick up Nana after we pick up Braden from school?" Marcus asked.

"First things first," Derek said. "Braden's getting a haircut."

"Why?" Braden moaned. His kid really hated change.

"Because you're starting to look shaggy," Derek told him.

"I like Scooby better!" Marcus piped up.

Derek grinned. "I've always been a Velma guy, myself," he replied.

Braden rolled his eyes. "Because of sex?" he asked.

"What?!" Derek exploded. It never occurred to him to make light of the question. What in the _hell_ did his six year old son know about sex?

"Well, Lucas Dalton's dad says—"

"Lucas Dalton's _dad_—" Derek stopped; reminding himself that he was in the company of two little boys. "Talks too much," he muttered. Not quite what he had wanted to say, but he'd had to settle.

"Mom says that Lucas Dalton might be able to spend the night over Christmas vacation," Braden informed him.

"Yes," Derek said. "Well…I will be setting your mother straight on Lucas Dalton," he informed his son. "Come on, guys. We need to get going if we're gonna get Braden to school on time."

___

Penelope looked at the empty coffee mug in her hand as she made her way towards the house. She sighed. How could Derek be so thoughtful and so thoughtless all at the same time? It was driving her crazy! Her job was to find out information about people that no one else could. She was used to being in the know. But this wasn't something she could look up on her computer, and it was frustrating as hell! She wanted to chuck the damn mug until it fell into a million little pieces—but she resisted the urge, choosing composure instead.

She took a deep breath, readying herself for the sight of her husband. In the earlier days of their marriage, it had been his body and sweet talk that had turned her on, and while that was still true, the fact that Derek was so amazing with the boys and such a good provider was an even bigger turn on now. So seeing him in their house last night, and especially this morning so at ease with the boys and being all domestic, she wasn't going to lie. She had been fighting feelings of desire all day. And he wasn't even in her vicinity. She winced as she imagined what she'd be battling tonight.

But she never could have anticipated the sight that would greet her as she walked through the side door and into the kitchen. Derek was standing at the counter wearing her red and white checked apron, and there was a little boy on a stepstool on each side of him frosting sugar cookies.

"Hi, Mommy," Marcus said, looking up for just a moment.

"Hey, Baby," she said as she took off her coat. She hung it up and walked over to Braden. She put a hand on his head and turned it toward her. "You got a haircut," she said.

He nodded. "Dad made me," he said.

"Well I like it," she said, kissing him on the forehead. "You look so handsome."

She cleared her throat and walked over to Marcus, peeking over his shoulder. "Good job, Buddy," she said. "Where's your mother?" she asked Derek. She'd left work at one o'clock, the time her mother-in-laws flight should have landed. She'd wanted to be sure and be there to greet her when Derek brought her home.

"Her flight was delayed," he explained.

She nodded. "What time will she get here?"

"She should be getting in at three," he said, looking at the clock. "We better start picking up, guys. We need to leave in a few minutes to go pick up Nana."

"That's OK," Penelope said. "You keep frosting and I'll pick up after you leave," she insisted.

"Are you sure?" Derek asked.

She nodded as she picked up a cookie and took a bite.

"That one isn't frosted!" Marcus said.

"That's OK," she said with a wink. "Less work for ya."

"You don't want to come to the airport?" Derek asked.

She shook her head. "No. You and the boys should go get her. I have a few things I'd like to get done before she gets here anyway." But most of all—she didn't want her husbands reunion with his mother to be awkward, and she was afraid that her presence might make it that way.

She left the room and headed upstairs to collect the dirty clothes from the boys rooms and her hamper and tossed them into the washer, then hauled the vacuum cleaner out of the hall closet and began working on the carpets. Fran would never comment on her housekeeping skills, but it didn't mean that Penelope would let her cleanliness slide. Her home represented her, and she liked to keep it neat and tidy. After finishing the carpets, she was going to make the beds, but she hadn't noticed before that it was already done. Derek had been busy today, what with picking up, taking Braden for a haircut, and then making cookies with the boys.

By the time she made it back to the kitchen, Derek and the boys were gone and she went to work cleaning up. She put the cookies in some Tupperware, and then cleaned up the countertop. She swept the floor, and then looked around. The place looked great, in part thanks to Derek, and she was able to sit on the couch and relax. She lay down with a yawn—she hadn't slept much last night with Marcus' shoulder driven into her hip bone—and before she knew it, her eyelids were fluttering closed.

___

Penelope awoke with a start as she heard the clamor in the kitchen and sat up. She rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses, and then stood up, making her way into the kitchen. "Hey," she said as she walked in.

"Hey!" Fran said, heading for her daughter in law. She gave her a big hug.

"How are you?" Penelope asked.

"I'm good," Fran told her. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Penelope answered. "How was your flight?"

Fran frowned. "It was OK. Lots of turbulence," she said. "And I'm not big on turbulence."

Penelope laughed. "Neither am I," she said dryly.

"Mom, Nana said we could have blueberry pancakes for supper," Braden said.

"Well, we don't have blueberries _or_ pancake mix," she told him.

"Maybe tomorrow for breakfast," Derek said.

"_Or_ I could go to the grocery store and I could make them for supper like I promised," Fran said.

"I can take you to the grocery store," Derek said.

Fran smiled at her son. "I'm a big girl, Derek. I can take _myself_ to the grocery store."

Derek nodded. "Right," he said with a grin. His mother had been to visit them several times and was familiar enough with the area to get around by herself.

"Do you need anything else at the grocery store?" she asked.

Penelope shook her head. "Not that I can think of," she said.

"We're out of coffee creamer," Derek told his mother.

_Funny he should remember that when he doesn't even drink it,_ Penelope thought bitterly.

Fran nodded. "All right. I'll get coffee creamer. Any preference?"

Derek looked at Penelope. She shook her head. "Just not flavored," she requested.

"OK. Boys, you want to come with me?" she asked.

Both boys nodded eagerly and still wearing their coats, they headed for the door. Fran held her hand out for keys, and Derek dropped his key ring into her hand. She followed the boys out the door, leaving Derek and Penelope alone for the first time in months.

Derek took his coat off and hung it up on one of the hooks by the door and turned around. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm just gonna put the laundry in the dryer," she told him, disappearing from the room.

Derek put on a pot of coffee—he drank it all day long—then pulled a mug from the cupboard and put it on the counter, waiting for it to finish brewing.

Penelope walked into the kitchen a minute later and opened the fridge, pulling out a gallon of water. After getting a glass, she filled it and then put the water back. She took a long swallow and then set it down onto the counter.

"Penelope…" Derek said softly.

"What?" she asked harshly, her back to him.

He sighed, and rubbed his temples. "I know you're mad at me—"

She swung around. "Just so you know, not _everything_ is about you," she informed him.

"Then what—"

"I'm mad at _me_," she told him.

"For what?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Because look at what you've done to us, Derek! And _still_ all I can think about…" She sighed instead of finishing her sentence.

"All you can think about is _what?"_ he pressed.

She shook her head, and he walked towards her slowly, forcing her backwards until her lower back hit the kitchen counter.

"All you can think about…is _what_?" he asked again, his tone low and coaxing.

She met his eyes, anger flaring in her own. "Having you between my legs," she snapped. She was hoping that her crude wording would be enough to put him off, but it had the exact opposite affect. "Is _that_ what you want to hear?"

"Yep," he said without missing a beat. He closed the gap between them until his body was resting against hers, the counter the only thing holding them up. He studied her face for a minute and while her eyes were blazing with anger, they were also full of passion. He lifted his hands to her face and rubbed the thumbs of both hands over her cheekbones, unable to tear his gaze away from hers. She looked away first, her eyes falling to his mouth, her tongue tracing a trail across her own lower lip. His hand moved to her chin, and he grabbed it roughly, his mouth coming down hard on hers. His tongue propelled forward into her mouth and he didn't wait for her to open. Instead, he forced her lips apart, anxious to taste her again. He nearly moaned in pleasure when his tongue found hers.

He put his hands under her arms and hoisted her up onto the counter—his lips never leaving hers. He used his hands to push her skirt up to her hips—and she accommodated by lifting her bottom to make it easier for him. One tug and her panties were off. He put them in his jeans pocket and reaching between her legs, he slipped two fingers inside of her. She was hot, wet, and oh so ready. He began to move his fingers back and forth, his pace swift. He used the thumb on the same hand to reach above her opening, and when he found what he was looking for, his circular motion was frenzied. But by the sound she was making, he could tell it was doing the trick.

He pulled his lips from hers and moved to her neck, kissing a path down the v of her black t shirt to the valley between her breasts. He pulled her shirt down below one of her breasts with his free hand, taking the fabric of her bra with it. He saw hot pink lace peeking out and pulled just the cup of her bra back up. "_This _is new," he said appreciatively, lifting his eyes to hers. She couldn't speak—just nodded.

"I like it," he said huskily as he pushed it back down. After a moan that clearly indicated longing, he brought his lips down to her hardened nipple. She whimpered as she felt his teasing tongue flick out of his mouth before he began to suck hard and she wiggled her bottom to move closer to him.

"The other one," she commanded eagerly after a minute, bracing herself with one hand as she used the other to pull her bra down on the other side, readying her other breast for him.

He kissed his way to the other mound, using his tongue to trace a path around her nipple before covering it with his mouth and sucking, this time more gently than before. But the hand between her legs kept up its swift pace. God, the man could multitask.

"Derek…" she said raggedly.

"Tell me what you want," he said, using his teeth to graze her nipple. He felt her shiver beneath him. She tasted even better than he remembered. Every mouth-watering inch of her.

"I already told you," she whimpered.

"Give me more," he demanded harshly, his fingers quickening. "The naughtier, the better."

"Inside of me," she said. "_Deep_ inside of me."

"Yeah?" he said. He felt the nodding motion of her chin on the top of his head. He removed his fingers and his eyes locked on hers. "Is that all?" he whispered.

"Hot and hard, Derek. And _quick._" Her eyes were dark with the passion he'd missed over the last few months. "Fuck me."

He was more than happy to oblige. His wife reached for the button of his jeans and undid his pants, then heaved his zipper down. He gave his jeans a push so they fell to his knees along with his boxers. He positioned himself at her opening, and then paused. "Are you…safe?" he asked.

She nodded breathlessly. "There's nothing to worry about," she assured him.

At her answer he drove into her, giving her exactly what she wanted. He was hot and damn—he wasn't sure he'd ever _been_ harder. She leaned back and he heard an 'oomph' when her head thumped against the cupboard behind her. Without missing a beat, she adjusted her hips slightly so she could take more of him. She locked her fingers together at the back of his neck and her ankles at his lower back. He felt her knees tighten on his waist—a sure that sign she was getting ready to come. "Hold on there for a minute, baby girl," he begged softly, as she lifted her hips time and again to meet his thrusts.

"I don't…I don't think I can," she said.

He didn't want this to be over so hastily—he wanted it to last. He wasn't sure when it would happen again, and he damn well wanted more than a few minutes of foreplay and 90 seconds of feeling her so hot and tight around him. It was as if every muscle in her body was throbbing and he could feel it as he plunged in and out of her. He bit his lower lip and could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead as he forced himself to keep going.

When he felt his control slipping away from him, his mouth swooped down for capture. His tongue assaulted hers immediately and while he usually let her take the lead in their kissing, he fought for domination. He was so content being inside of her, he'd _brand_ her if he could. He lifted his hand to the back of her head to soften the blow, and kissed her so soundly her head was forced backwards—but the knuckles of his hand hit the cupboard, sparing her the soft blow this time. Derek brought his hips back so he was just inside of her, and then drove forward one last time with a groan. He felt his release as she cried out his name and stayed inside of her for a few moments longer before removing himself. He reached down to pull his pants up, concentrating on fastening them. He stayed where he was, not allowing her to move.

She felt like jelly, anyway. Moving wasn't going to happen for a few minutes.

Her eyes cased the kitchen over his shoulder. "Where are my—

He pulled her panties out of his pocket and they hung from his index finger, swinging from side to side. "They're not any good any more," he said with a crooked grin.

"I just didn't want the boys to find them," she told him. "Or your mother." Not much embarrassed Penelope, but even _she_ had to admit that the image of Derek's mother finding her panties on the kitchen floor was enough to redden her cheeks.

Her thoughts flew back to the present as she felt stroking on her inner thighs.

"What are you doing?" she asked, the pitch of her voice rising.

"Showing you what you're missing," he told her.

"You just did," she reminded him.

"Did I?" he asked with a lazy grin.

She nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving his until he fell to his knees in front of her and parted her with his fingers. He tongue found her core quickly—it was still throbbing. A few flecks of his tongue, and he could feel her writhing once again. He swirled his tongue around and around, and up and down—slowing his tempo this time. But it didn't matter. Another few seconds, and she was crying out his name again in complete bliss.


	4. Chapter 4

"Have you told her what's goin' on with you, Derek?" his mother asked that night after Penelope and the boys had gone to bed.

Derek shook his head as he took a sip of beer.

"Don't you think she has the right to know?" she pressed.

He nodded. "Yes. I just…need to find the words."

His mother cleared her throat. "If it's affecting you like this, Derek, then maybe it's time to think about a new career."

Derek's head flew up. "I can't leave the bureau!" he said firmly.

"But you can leave your family?" she shot back.

He lifted his hand and rubbed it across his forehead. "It's not like that," he said.

Fran sighed. "Do you think she's just gonna be here ready for you to come home when you decide it's time?"

God, he hoped so. But Derek didn't say anything. He played with the label of his beer instead.

"Your father would be beside himself to know that you've deserted your family," his mother said.

Derek's head snapped up, anger flaring in his eyes. "Dad would understand," he said.

"Would he?" his mother asked softly. She shook her head. "I don't think so. You left your wife and _kids_, Derek."

"Dammitt, Momma! I didn't leave them!"

"Don't you curse at me," she warned quietly.

He sighed at the reprimand. But he had to admit, it was deserved. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

She smiled sadly at her son. "Are you still having nightmares?" she asked.

He nodded, looking away.

"Did they give you anything to help you sleep at night?" she pushed.

"Yeah," he said tiredly. "But I only took it once."

"Why?"

"I slept too soundly," he said. "Didn't like it."

She shook her head. "I hope you talk to your wife before it's too late," she said as she stood up. She leaned down and kissed her son on the forehead. "Good night, Honey," his mother said.

He smiled at her. "Night, Momma."

___

Penelope reached for the glass of water on her nightstand only to find it empty. Derek kept the furnace up high and it made the house dry. She'd already stripped down to her tank top and panties. Taking off anything else wasn't an option. She sighed in frustration. It was almost one a.m. and she hadn't slept a wink. She had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the man downstairs on the couch. It was hard enough to fall asleep at night without her husband by her side, but to know he was _downstairs_? Well that made it nearly impossible.

She got out of bed and pulled her pajama bottoms on, then made her way into the kitchen. She opened the fridge to pour a fresh glass of water and was heading for the stairs when she heard Derek thrashing around on the overstuffed couch.

___

"_Don't go in there, Derek," he heard. It was Prentiss' voice and it was echoing throughout the room. He looked around, but all he could see was darkness. "Derek!" he heard her say again. "Don't go in there!" He walked straight ahead, hands out in front of him, until he bumped into something. He began to feel along the wall at a furious pace until his hand came to a door knob. He grasped it, moving to open the door. "Don't do it, Derek!" Prentiss said adamantly. But it was too late._

Derek sat up in bed, his t-shirt soaked with sweat. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving. He rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes.

"Derek?" he heard.

He just about jumped out of his skin.

The light flipped on, and Penelope was standing there wearing a pair of hot pink Capri pajama bottoms. The color reminded him of earlier that evening. She had on a matching tank top—no bra. He knew from experience that all he'd have to do was look at her nipples and they'd be hard. But he forced himself to meet her eyes instead. They were filled with worry.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

He nodded, clearing his throat. "I'm fine," he said.

She nodded, too, but hers was uncertain. She took a deep breath. "Leaving was one thing, Derek. But when are you going to stop lying to me?"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm not fine?" he asked angrily.

"For starters," she said.

"I'm not fine," he shot back.

"Really?" she said sarcastically. "You don't say?"

"Oh, don't start," he told her.

"Start what? I think I've pretty fucking _patient_ with you, Derek."

"This is patient?" he shot back.

"No, this is me fed up!" she said heatedly. She sighed. "When your mother leaves, Derek, so do you. And you don't come back."

"Fine," he said.

"I mean it. You don't pick up the boys here; you don't drop them off here! You don't come in to see Jack Frost—I'm done!"

He looked at her, his eyes widening. He'd seen her angry before, but not like this. She never raised her voice. And he couldn't blame her. He'd been purposely vague for months, and then he'd left without really leaving. He came and went as he pleased, and for the most part—up until now—she hadn't said a word.

She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, you're not gonna say anything?" she said, lifting her eyebrows. She laughed bitterly. "_There's_ a surprise." She choked back a sob. "_I'll_ do the talking." She stood there for a minute studying his face before continuing. "I'm gonna see a lawyer after Christmas." She was lying. And Derek probably knew she was lying, but Penelope was a desperate woman. They'd worked so hard to build a good marriage and a structured home for their children. And Derek was just throwing it all away. And for _what_?

Derek felt as if a bomb had just dropped into his lap. But instead of trying to diffuse it, all he could do was stare at it.

Penelope could see the shock on his face. Besides earlier this afternoon, this was the most response she'd gotten from him in months. She looked away from him and rubbed her arms with her bare hands, then headed for the stairs. She'd almost made it to the bottom step when she heard him speak.

"It was Montgomery," Derek said quietly.

She froze for a second and then turned around. "What?" she asked confused.

He cleared his throat. "It was the first week of school vacation, and you took it off to be with the boys," he told her. "We had a case in Alabama."

"I don't remember that," she said, walking over to the couch to stand in front of him.

"Because I didn't tell you about it. You asked me how it went when I got home, and I couldn't tell you," he explained. "So I played it off like it wasn't a big deal."

"Well, how did it _go_?" she asked. She knew it was a stupid question—obviously something had gone horribly wrong—but she didn't know what else to say. Her husband was talking to her and she was desperate for him to carry on. She had to say _something._

He shook his head, the images still clear in his mind. "Not good," he answered honestly.

"What happened?" she asked.

_Derek nodded, giving Prentiss the go ahead. She returned it with a nod of her own then proceeded to kick down the front door. Prentiss went straight ahead, Derek went left, and Hotch went right. "Clear!" Derek shouted when he'd searched the area thoroughly._

"_Clear!" he heard Hotch yell._

"_Hotch!" Prentiss' voice came from upstairs. It was filled with urgency._

_Derek reached the stairs first and practically flew up them. Hotch was right behind him. _

_Prentiss was standing in the doorway of one of the rooms when Derek reached her. "In here?" he asked._

_She nodded. "Derek," she warned. "I don't think…" Her voice trailed off._

"_You don't think what?" he asked swiftly._

_She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "You shouldn't go in there," she said. Her voice was hoarse._

"_What are you talking about?" he asked angrily. Derek Morgan didn't shrink away from a case._

"_Prentiss?" Hotch said. "Step aside."_

"_Hotch…" she said. Her eyes were pleading, but Derek hadn't seen it then._

"_Prentiss." Hotch remained firm._

_She stepped to the side with a sigh and Derek pushed past her._

_What he saw made his blood run cold._

Derek lifted his eyes to his wife's, and she could see the torture in them. She'd never noticed it before. Had it been there prior to him leaving and she'd been too busy to see it? She didn't know, but she wished she did.

"The crime scene," he told her. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Penelope sank down onto the couch next to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck. She placed the other one on his knee. "Derek?" she said gently.

He opened his eyes. "It wasn't even gruesome," he told her with a shrug. "It was pretty mild compared to most of the other ones we see. But…it was a family," he told her. "A white mother and her two sons."

Penelope inhaled sharply. "African American?" she guessed.

He nodded as he took a deep breath. "The mother had long, curly blond hair." He lifted a hand and picked up a piece of her hair, running his fingers down the lock until it fell back onto her bare shoulder. "They found her glasses a few feet away from her body." He shuddered at the thought. They'd been thick, black rimmed, like Penelope's. "Prentiss warned me. But I didn't listen and I pushed past her. This was the second family of victims. And they were hate crimes. But we didn't put it together until that second family. They were killed for no other reason than they chose to marry black men and have babies with them. The first one wasn't too bad. But the second one…God, she looked _just_…like you."

Penelope had thought it would take more than words for her to forgive him, but she'd been wrong. The pain in his voice was raw, and in that instant, it was done. "Derek," she said feelingly.

"Everything changed that day, Penelope," he said softly.

She shook her head and leaned forward, putting her forehead on his. "It's baby girl," she said softly.

He gathered her in his arms and pulled her to him in a crushing hug. "_My_ baby girl," he corrected.

He pulled away and she let her hand rest at the base of his neck again. "I was _always_ the first one in, fearless and focused," he told her. "And then, all of a sudden…it's like everything that I could lose was staring me right in the face. It wasn't just about me anymore. And it hadn't been for a long time. I wanted to catch the bad guys to make this world a better place," he explained. "And…I did it at any cost. I…kicked down doors, I chased UnSubs."

"That's your job," she reminded him.

He shook his head. "My _job_ is to do that stuff while I take precautions. But sometimes, I'd throw caution to the wind."

"So…you pushed us _away_ because you were afraid of _losing_ us?" she concluded. She didn't like it, but in a way she couldn't explain, she understood her husbands' logic.

"I watched my father get shot right in front of me! I watched him fall to the ground and die! And I never thought that in all of my life, I would ever feel what I felt that day! But Penelope, when I walked into that room…" He took a deep breath. "When I walked into that room, it was a hundred times worse. Because _all_ I saw…was you and the boys. And I realized that until that moment, I had never known fear," he admitted. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and lifted his eyes to hers. "I was selfish," he said.

"I can't…argue with that," she told him honestly.

"I know," he said. "And…I wanted to stop pulling away from you, baby girl, but I couldn't. And when I saw that you were so miserable—that I was _making_ you that way, I left. It wasn't fair to you."

"And being without you _was_?" she asked quietly.

"I wasn't the same man," he told her, shaking his head.

She cleared her throat. "Derek, listen to me. You are _never _going to change so much that I don't want you," she promised him. "Or love you."

"I wish I could believe that," he told her.

She looked him in the eye. "I will tell you as many times as I need to until you believe it," she told him fiercely. "But Derek, you can't ever do this again. You can't just…leave like this."

"Or you won't take me back," he said softly.

She shook her head violently. "You're not listening to me," she said impatiently. "I _would _take you back. But my heart…would be _broken_!" she said firmly.

He studied her face for a minute, his eyes locked on hers. "I won't ever leave you," he said.

She looked into his eyes and saw the promise in them. She stood up and took him by the hand. "Come to bed," she said, giving him a soft tug.

He stood up and pulled her against him, her chest resting against his. He lifted his hands to her cheeks and pushed her hair away from her face. "I'm _so_ _sorry_," he said earnestly.

"I know you are," she told him.

He stood there for a minute, looking at her. "You're gonna forgive me just like that?" he asked quietly.

"Yep," she said with a tender smile. "Just like that."

"Why?" he asked.

"Derek Morgan, have you ever known me to hold a grudge?" she asked sweetly.

He shook his head and she lifted her hands to rest on his.

"Then why would I start with _you_?" she said, tilting her head to the side. She started walking backwards towards the stairs and he followed her up to their bedroom.

___

"You know it drives me crazy when you don't wear a bra," Derek told her, his hands covering her breasts over her tank top. "Did you do that on purpose?" he growled.

"No," Penelope said with a laugh. "You know I never wear a bra to bed."

"And I bet that makes your husband a _very_ happy man," he teased with a grin.

"Wait," Penelope said unconvincingly when her husband's capable hands found the waistband of her panties.

"What am I waiting for?" he asked.

"I have to…tell you something," she said hesitantly.

He waited but she remained silent.

"Baby girl?" he asked, his hand moving to rest on her belly.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out.

His eyes flew to her stomach. "What? You told me you were safe," he said dumbfounded.

"I _was_!" she told him. "There was no way I could get pregnant, because I already was! We were as _safe_ as we were ever gonna get."

"How pregnant _are_ you?" he asked.

She cleared her throat. "Three months," she answered.

"Three months? Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. But his tone wasn't filled with accusation, just curiosity.

She sighed. "I just found out a few days ago. And I wasn't…" Her eyes left his. "Sure," she finished quietly.

"That you wanted another baby?" he asked. They'd discussed it before, and they'd decided together that they wanted more children.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I didn't want another baby _without _you," she said softly.

"That's why the boys heard you crying." He said it out loud, but it was to himself.

She bit down her lower lip waiting for her husbands reaction.

But there was no need for nervousness. Her husband was thrilled with the news. He lifted her tank top and kissed the spot just above her belly button. "Daddy's coming home," he said softly.

Penelope lay back on the bed, one of her arms behind her head. She had a grin on her face, her tears forgotten.

Derek gave her panties a swift tug and she sighed. Another pair to replace.

He moved his mouth closer to her belly, placing a soft kiss there. "Now, just so you know, in a few minutes, your momma is gonna be making some _crazy_ noises," Derek whispered. "But don't worry." He lifted his head and winked at his wife. "_That_ means she likes it."

___

"Ssshh!" Braden said crossly to his brother the next morning as they stood in the hallway.

"Why do I have to be quiet?" Marcus questioned, his little arms outstretched to his sides.

Braden sighed. Marcus questioned _everything_. "Do you hear what I hear?" he asked excitedly.

Marcus shook his head. "What do you hear?" he asked.

Braden smiled. "It's Mommy and Daddy. And they're laughing."

Marcus grinned. Daddy was right. Santa Claus really _did_ give you what you wanted for Christmas.

***THE END***


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